A Decepticon Christmas Carol
by Prander
Summary: A new take on a timeless classic, starring none other than mighty Megatron. Hope this brings ya a laugh. Merry Christmas!


**A Decepticon Christmas Carol**

Ebenezer Megatron sat in his huge reinforced steel chair, wrapped in a thick robe and stocking cap before an immense fireplace and cupping a bowl of steaming oil in his hands. He sipped it quietly as the evening wore on.

Suddenly, through his bedroom door and down the hall, he heard the ghostly sound of a Transformer even though he knew he was all alone in the great drafty Decepticon base! He lowered his bowl of oil, frowning deeply.

Someone was coming up the steps! He could hear the heavy ponderous tread of ghostly feet! Dread weighed heavy in the air.

"No, not tonight! I don't believe it!" he groaned, setting aside his bitter meal and gripping the arms of his chair tightly. With wide eyes he stared at the massive steel door leading into his bed chambers. The steps drew nearer, just beyond the door now, and at any moment whatever haunted Megatron on this cold Christmas Eve would appear!

"Megatrooon!" A voice wailed, as an ethereal hand brushed through the very door itself! Megatron swallowed hard.

"Megatrooon!" Starscream's voice cried again, echoing from the empty cold halls of eternity, wailing in torment and despair. Slowly the Decepticon Air Commander stepped through the door, his spectral form shimmering in the air like hazy pixels.

"Mega..."

BOOM! Megatrons raised fusion cannon roared and blew Starscream's ghost into millions of component atoms, scattering the spark residue and combusting it with flash of static electricity.

**(One hour later)**

"Megatro.." BOOM!

**(Two hours later)**

Starscream's spectral head popped out from the wall next to Megatron's fireplace.

"Will you stop _shooting_ me, for cryin' out loud?! I'm trying to tell you something!"

Megatron's eyes narrowed as he looked up at Starscream's disembodied head. He lowered his paper and slipped his reading spectacles off his nose.

"Very well. Have your say and be gone. Lest I open a vent and suck you down in to the furnace." He laid his things aside.

Slowly Starscream stepped out of the wall, both hands raised up in truce, though he was ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

"Look, hold your fire. This wasn't my idea, ok? But apparently the powers that be have decided that on this Christmas eve, the miserable miser and mighty Megatron is to have a chance at redemption."

Megatron rolled his eyes and picked back up his reading materials, slipping his spectacles back in to place.

"Are you listening to me?" Starscream waved a hand in front of his face.

Disgusted, Megatron lowered the paper.

"Is that it then? A chance at redemption? Request denied. Now, go away."

Starscream dropped his hands and sighed.

"Look can I sit down?" he indicated the other empty chair.

"No."

Raising his hands once again in a placating gesture, slowly Starscream stepped over and slid into the open seat.

"Now Megatron, this is important. Otherwise I wouldn't be here. You gotta listen to me."

"The only reason you are here is because you are a treacherous dog of a traitor I should have shot a million cycles ago."

"Oh yeah? Well you _did_ shoot me. Seven years ago this very night!"

"You wanted a present."

"_That_ was a present?"

"It was to me."

"Listen, the people that sent me think this is important or I never would have come! I tried to tell them you were a stubborn, rust headed, pride filled fool who would never..."

"Want another one, eh?!" Megatron's eyes glowed red as he raised his cannon back up.

"No! No!" Starscream pawed at the end of the cannon but his ghostly hands passed through it. He ducked down in his chair, raising his arms over his head.

"You'll ruin your chair! Megatron! _Please_!"

"State your business, traitor!" Megatron lowered the weapon but kept it ready.

Starscream straightened back up.

"Look...tonight, you'll be haunted by three spirits. Expect the first when the bell tolls one!"

"One!" Megatron shouted.

BOOM!

**(An hour further on...) **

"Stop that!"

"These spirits. Are any of them _you_?" he glowered at Starscream.

"No! Did I say it would be me?" Starscream stepped back out of the wall and dropped his hands in an exasperated gesture. "Just hear me out so I can get out of here!"

"Three spirits. Very well. Now go." Megatron sniffed and raised up his paper once more.

"It's about the three Christmas Ghosts. Past, present and future. Now the first one..."

Megatron lowered his paper and leaned down to crank up the dial on the fireplace. The flames, fueled by energon, roared up into sharp yellow teeth. Starscream's ghost immediately lost resolution as he became hazy and indistinct in the power field, jagged lines of disruption zig-zagging through him like he was a broken TV set.

"Stop that! You're scattering my s-s-spark!" He raised his hands to his head, in obvious pain.

Megatron looked over at him with a cocked eyebrow and cranked it up even further. With a pop of ozone, Starscream dissipated and Megatron leaned back to continue reading.

Starscream's ghost reappeared with a stagger over by the bedroom door and he shook his head clear before scowling over at Megatron where he sat calmly in his chair.

"Alright then, considered yourself warned! I'm done with this, you sadist!" He made a cutting gesture through the air with both hands and turned away.

"Starscream!" Megatron called out, lowering the paper yet again.

"What?!" Starscream snarled as he turned back around.

BOOM!

**ooo**

Later that night as Megatron slumbered in his bed, the sleeping curtains drawn down around the sides, a glow appeared in his chambers. It grew in intensity, shining through the part in the bed curtains and filling the whole room before fading away. The first ghost had arrived.

Megatron kept right on snoring.

With little warning, Ironhide thrust his face through the fabric, tearing the bed curtains wide, his squared off chin jutting out in defiance.

"Leakin' lubricants! I didn't believe it when they told me. Wake up, Megatron, before I give you a kick in the keester that will rattle your gears!"

Slowly, Megatron rolled over and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, holding up one hand at the unexpected glow from the old Autobot ghost.

"Who's there? Ironhide? Is that you?"

"That's right, you Decepti-creep. I'm here to show you the Christmas from the past, much good it will do someone like you!"

Megatron had yet to lower his hand.

"Speaking of the past, didn't I blow your head down and out through your asshole once? On that shuttle Prime sent to Earth?"

"That's right, you did, Megatron. Now get outta this bed and let's get this over with before..."

BOOM!

**ooo**

Ironhide came walking back into ghost-central, his head a concave smoking crater where Megatron had yet again shot him in the forehead. Starscream, sipping a mug of coffee and standing by the front desk, spit it out when he beheld this sight.

"What happened to _you_?" he cried.

"Ah, fuck him." Ironhide growled. "The only thing you can remind Megatron about the past is how much he enjoyed being such a son-of-a-bitch!"

He felt around for a head that was no longer there. "He makes my circuit's sizzle!"

"This will never work." Starscream lamented, turning to the robot clerk behind the desk. "The only thing in Megatron's past are dead Transformers he enjoyed killing. We got to send someone else!"

**ooo**

"Buzz, what are we doing here? This isn't even our timeline!"

"Steady, Woody. We've been assigned a task and the sooner we see it out, the sooner we can return home."

Sheriff Woody grabbed Buzz Lightyear as he made to march over the curtains and yank them open. In the dusty confines of this dim, cold bedroom, he whispered more out of fear, than caution.

"We don't even know who this guy is!" he pulled Buzz backward, glancing up at the dark curtains the color of dried blood. They both could hear the low rumble of a deep snore that resonated in their chests. Buzz turned to him.

"Woody, if we accomplish our mission they'll send us home!"

Woody shook him by the shoulders, incensed.

"That little bitch left us laying in the yard and her old man ran over us with the lawnmower! So much for Toy Story four! What do you wanna go back as?_ Confetti_!?"

"Steady, Woody. We've been tasked with the spirit of Christmas present to show this Megatron fellow the error of his ways." Buzz announced, his back going ramrod straight.

"Buzz, don't do this!" Woody hissed as the staunch little space rancher pulled away from him. "We were birthday presents! Let Christmas worry about itself!"

But Buzz Lightyear was undaunted, and even as Woody looked on, he climbed up the side of the bed hand over hand and up onto the mattress, preparing to fling the heavy curtains wide.

"Buzz! Buzz!" he hissed. "Don't do this!" Buzz turned and looked down at him.

"We can't turn back now, Woody. Do it for Andy."

"_Fuck _Andy! I hope he catches crabs in college!" Woody cried. Terrified, and with no choice, he stood there hopping in place with agitation down on the floor. Sure enough, Buzz was hell bent on waking up whoever was in there.

"Oh man, if I ever see Andy again I'll twist his nuts off!" Woody groaned, his knees knocking together as he pulled his hat down around his ears.

"Wake up, my good man, and behold Christmas present!" Buzz trumpeted at the top of his tiny lungs, flinging back the curtains. A dazzling blast of divine light accompanied him, bursting open the shutters of the bedroom windows and shining directly into the veiled shadows of the bed along with a plethora of ringing bells,chorus songs and good cheer, the air filling with the scent of Christmas cookies and wholesome foods.

Like an armored battering ram, a massive gray metal fist loomed out of the cacophony and slammed down on Buzz Lightyear's head like he was an alarm clock. His little glass dome popped like a bubble and his head was crushed down into his body like a whack-a-mole game.

The noise and light was immediately cut off as Megatron hit the snooze.

"JesusfuckingChrist!" Woody screamed as Buzz's headless body toppled backwards off the bed. The great Decepticon despot loomed out of the covers, his eyes bloodshot and bleary...and enraged.

"Who the _fuck_ are you?" he growled when he spotted the groveling Woody on the floor.

"Are..are you Satan?" the hapless little toy quivered.

Megatron leaned out of bed and snatched him up, blinking at him for a few seconds as he pondered such a question in the middle of the night.

"Yes." Megatron said simply and with a neat flick of the wrist, he fired the flammable Woody into the flickering flames of his fireplace.

**ooo**

Several hours later Starscream was leaning over the front desk of ghost central on his elbows, rubbing his temples hard and chasing down some anxiety pills with cold, stale coffee.

"Those two little fools aren't coming back." he groaned, thumping the mug down.

"We have to do something!" Ironhide declared, sparks popping from his concave skull.

Starscream turned to him.

"You wanna mount a rescue, go ahead. You know back in the day they didn't make very many of _our _toys, Ironhide. But they churned out a couple million Woody and Buzz. They can spare a few!"

"That's not how we do things, Decepticon!"

"Show some brains, Autobot! Oh wait, you already are!"

"Fuck you, Starscream!"

"That's enough, you two. I shall go to Megatron and make him listen." Optimus Prime came striding out of the back offices. He stopped with his hands on his hips, the great and formidable leader of the Autobots undaunted by his task. "By the power of the Matrix he shall find his Christmas spirit, or one of us shall stand and one of us shall..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you do that." Starscream waved him off. "Go shake your magic eight ball in his face and see which one of you is left standing."

**ooo**

"Die, Optimus Prime!"

"Stop it, Megatron! I am here to show you the Christmas of the future!" And Prime ducked another cannon blast, backing away from Megatron as their running battle took them down the streets of old London.

"Enough of your tricks, Autobot! If ever I see Starscream's ghost again, I'll capture his essence and brew him into a soup! Return me to my bed chambers, Prime, or I will reduce this city to ash!"

Unnoticed by the two massive titans, Tiny Tim struggled forward on his crippled leg, so poor that he could not even afford to pad the makeshift crutch he used to support himself. In the chilly streets of London on this Christmas morning, surely there was never a more wretched and courageous example of those in need among the lost urchins of poverty and hunger. Tiny Tim's bravery in the face of his ailment would melt the heart of any miserly tyrant, as he never complained of his earthly trials, but carried on with a stout heart much too big for his weakened little body. In his threadbare clothes and worn out shoes, he shivered in the cold Christmas air, stumping forward carefully and slipping his tattered cap from off his head.

"Excuse me, sir, Mister Megatron, but could you see it in yourself to spare a poor lad some..."

"_Silence_, fleshling! Stand aside or risk obliteration!" And Megatron scooped up a donkey cart and fired it down the street, bashing Optimus off his feet where he crushed in the front of an old English pub.

"Bloody hell!" Tiny Tim cried as the street shook from their battle. "You wankers are fackin' crazy!" and he scuttled away as quickly as he could.

Prime ducked another cannon blast as he ran up to Megatron, grappling with him at the last moment and getting in close.

"You fiend! I'll make you see the future even if I have to kick your ass to do it!"

"You and what army!?" Megatron growled as they flailed away at each other like Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots, backing through cottages and snapping off streetlights until they found themselves battling in a mist covered and gloomy cemetery.

"Look! Look, Megatron!" Optimus cried as he wrenched the Decepticon leader around in a headlock. "See through the mists of time to this lowly grave! Where a few short years from now your cold and heartless soul will forever be damned to wander the Earth in regret for deeds he can no longer change! See now, where tyranny shall lead you!"

Pausing for a moment, Megatron looked up at the headstone Optimus indicated, both of them watching as the mists of Christmas future parted to reveal what fate had in store for them.

**Optimus Prime**

**1984-2014**

**Freedom is the right of every sentient bean.**

Prime's eyes bulged out of his head. "Wait, _what the_ _fuck_? That's not right! That _can't _be right!"

"You're absolutely right, Optimus. They misspelled 'being'." And cackling maniacally, he lifted Optimus up in a vertical suplex and slammed him down onto the ground.

Stunned, Prime could do nothing as Megatron pulled him to his knees and reversed the headlock, dragging him over to the tombstone.

"Read it an weep, sucker! If this is the future, I'll take two! Hahahaaaa!" he threw his head back, laughing in triumph.

"Nooooo!" Prime cried.

**ooo**

With a gasp, Megatron sat up in his bed, coming awake to the dim glow of morning filling his bedroom with dusty bars of light from the shuttered windows. Looking around, he swung his legs out to the floor and pushed his feet into his slippers, rubbing at his eyes in shock.

It had all been a dream! The visiting ghost's of Christmas had gone, leaving Megatron alone with his feelings, stunned from the visions of the night before. Standing up, he quickly raced over to the window and pulled open the shutters, beholding a bright, clear cold Christmas morning.

Surely even now, on a day filled with fellowship and goodwill towards your fellow man, even the mighty Megatron could find it in his heart to part with a few well meaning words.

He looked down at the courtyard of Autobot slaves, held captive here at the Decepticon base and they all looked back up at him, framed as he was in his bedroom window.

He stared at them as if seeing them for the first time, looking down on their wretched condition and blinking as if he could not believe his eyes.

"Whattaya standin' around for?" he growled. "Get back to work!" And they all scattered to do just that.

Bumblebee, his leg twisted cruelly, and doing his own Tiny Tim impression, stumped forward on his makeshift crutch, his heart undaunted on this fine Christmas day.

"And God bless us." he smiled. "Every..."

BOOM!

_**The End! **_

_**Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year my good readers. Hope this brought you a laugh!**_


End file.
